


Plunge

by ElectricKettle (DaLaRi)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, To Be Edited, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23077447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaLaRi/pseuds/ElectricKettle
Summary: in which thomas fingers james, but more importantly in which i posit, correctly, that thomas hamilton eats asslondon, beardy mcgraw, smut
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Plunge

james is lying spread beneath him, fists bunched in the sheets, his back trembling, hair loose and sweat-dark and calves flexing against thomas’s knees as thomas tongues him open, gently, and with more care than he’s ever done anything in his life. james is an intoxicant, and the taste of him is of flesh and heat and, faintly, of soap. james rocks back against his mouth as he spreads him open, laves against him, closes his eyes and lets himself meditate on the feeling of james under his tongue and around him, the choked noises james is biting into his forearm, the twitch of his perineum where thomas’s thumb rests gently where he’s spreading james to better access him. the faint dusting of hair is the same here as across the rest of james, and it’s familiar under his hands now, increasingly familiar under his tongue. he spears james, once, twice, three times, and james cries out, gently, and begs him, _please, thomas, god, your hands, please,_ ** _jesus_ ,** and thomas pulls himself back, touches james’s flank gently, and james flips, pulling a trembling leg up so not to kick him, and thomas tugs the other ankle over so that he, once again, is kneeling between james’s thighs. james’s cock is bobbing, leaving wet dots across james’s belly, and there’s a purpling bite mark that james left on his own forearm, and his eyes are wide and wet and dark, and it takes everything thomas has to stand and find the slick rather than take james in hand, watch him shake apart under him.

when he stands, his own legs are unsteady, and his hands tremble as he lifts the jellied oil from the table by the closet. james has wiped his eyes by the time he gets back, and is palming himself, desperation standing out in his corded forearms, in the tremble of his shoulders, and thomas cascades over him, stopping his shy of his mouth, but james answers his question by bringing his previously occupied hand up to crush thomas’s mouth to him, his whole body shaking as he chases thomas’s tongue, and thomas could do this forever, no matter what the tension and heat in his own body say to the contrary, but he’s got james so close, and when he fumbles behind himself for the tin of oil, james lets go of his mouth with a breathed _yes, god._ and thomas smiles and kisses him briefly before seating himself again where he was, opening the tin with hands damp with james’s sweat and his own, scooping a not-insignificant amount of oil onto two fingers. james makes as if to turn himself over, and thomas stops him.

_like this. please._

james looks indecisive. _the sheets–_

 _nothing will happen._ something eases behind james’s eyes, some fear he hadn’t realized he was holding. he nods.

 _yes, then._ he says. _god, yes, i want to see you._

and the oil on thomas’s fingers, having partially melted on the heat of thomas’s hand, chooses that moment to drip down onto the sheets, no doubt to leave the sort of mark that james had worried over. james’s eyes, however, just laugh as james’s lips quirk, the expression morphing as thomas grabs, not looking, with his free hand for a discarded pillow. james’s eyes are dark as he lifts his hips and when thomas, instead of staying back between his thighs, leans over james as he moves his slick hand back and under him, james’s voice is half a growl as he says, _what in my life did i do to be worth this,_ and thomas, feeling the spit-slicked muscle of james’s entrance under his fingertip, leans up to kiss and silence him as he pushes a finger up and into james, and crooks it hard, and presses.

james gasps, and moans, noises falling against and into thomas’s mouth, as his hands grasp at thomas’s neck and hair as if to find a way to silence himself, but thomas focuses on kissing him with the same rythm as that first one, then after some time two fingers find deep within james. there are punched sounds escaping from james’s mouth, and when thomas pauses, pulls back to get more slick so that he might continue, james clutches him to him, gasping, _no, no, fuck, more, don’t stop, thomas, god,_ and thomas says against his mouth, _i have to, any more than this would hurt without,_ and james, gd james clutches him tighter and says, _just let it. just let it._

thomas won’t. he can’t. so he kisses james, deeply, breathes him in, and then sits back, biting james’s mouth warningly as he grabs at him, and pulls his hand free from inside james. it’s a matter of moments to get more slick from the open jar, and when thomas spreads james open, slicking with two fingers briefly before immediately spreading him openwith three, james makes a noise in his chest halfway between a cry and a moan, and thomas, only halfway up his chest, doesn’t catch it in time with his mouth before it rings out, open, in the bedroom. james’s thighs are trembling, his cock is wet and twitching against thomas’s stomach, and thomas can’t encapsulate the heat in the tenderness that courses through him like fire, like venom, as james gasps to hear his own sound writ loud in the room. reaching james’s face, he finds his hand held sealed over his mouth, and when thomas kisses the hand james turns his face, shaking his head, so thomas moves, obligingly, questioningly, to the base where his neck meets his collarbone, and when he kisses there, gently, james trembles from his crown to his feet, and nods briefly, his eyes screwed shut.

and so thomas nudges james’s ankles and calves up over his thighs as he continues to fuck into him gently, then deeper and more rapidly, and as he presses kisses along james’s collarbone, the hollow of his throat, and the flesh right above it, he’s murmuring gentle things and praises, and when, after blindly finding with his other hand the tin of slick, his hand closes on james’s cock, james’s body wrenches, and sobbing into his hand, he comes.

thomas, untouched, at the sight and the feel of him, follows him, easily, blindly. his own noises, unmuffled gasps and long low moans, dwarf james’s muffled indiscretions and mask them, holding within their noise the comfort that has james freeing his hand from his mouth, pulling thomas, whose neck hardly bends up to reach him, up for a kiss as the last of his spasms ripple through him, around thomas’s fingers, against his hand on james’s cock. and as thomas slides his hand out of james, there’s a half-sigh that james gasps into thomas’s mouth, and when he nearly flinches to hear it, thomas merely slides the rest of the way up to easily kiss him, gently, unhurriedly, until james, though eventually overstimulated, knows nothing bad is coming of this. when he makes peeved sighs at thomas meandering to kiss his throat, nothing happens. there’s safety and joy in the way they lie kissing for far too long after that, until james’s sweat grows tacky on them both and the oil congeals and predictably, stains their sheets. they clean up with the ease and care they fucked with, and when they strip down the bed and bunch the sheets on the floor to be dealt with later as they reconstitute the bed for a nap, it’s with an indescribable fondness that they settle in together, peaceably entwined.


End file.
